


Not-so-Secret Admirer

by greenconverses



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Future Fic, Mild Smut, Originally Posted on Tumblr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-22
Updated: 2014-06-22
Packaged: 2018-02-05 17:02:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1825666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenconverses/pseuds/greenconverses
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some days, Calypso likes to watch Leo work in the garage just a little too much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not-so-Secret Admirer

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt _Leo/Calypso, secret admirer and tongue tied_.

Leo has the best kind of shoulders, perfect for admiring from afar.

They’re broad and well-muscled, something that’s especially noticeable on the days he wears thinning white T-shirts around the shop, and the way they  _move_  when he’s working… it’s enough to make a girl feel a little faint and let her mind wander to what those shoulders could be  _doing_  with her nails dug into them.

It is no secret that Leo’s shoulders are one of Calypso’s favorite parts of his body. Even on her island, when he hadn’t been as developed as he is now, she’d enjoyed watching him as he’d worked on his forge and his other projects, his skin glowing from the sun and slick with sweat. She’d liked the strength she saw in him while she watched — the kind of strength that came from creating and mending broken things, not from waging wars and beating others down.

Years later, she still appreciates that strength, particularly how his body managed to grow into it.

The problem is that now Leo knows  _just_  how much she likes those shoulders of his.

He’ll bump her with one as they pass in the shop, giving her a wink if he’s doing it on purpose and letting her frustrated glare drill into the middle of his back as he walks away. He’s figured out what fit of T-shirt drives her absolutely mad with the itch to run her fingers up the back of it and has bought an entire drawer full of them, not to mention the jackets and the sweaters and ugh, thank the gods he does not have a set of armor any more or he’d probably wear that around, too. He’ll stretches his arms just out of the corner of her eyes, usually when she’s with a customer, just to get her to stutter over her words when her concentration breaks and then disappear just as soon as her brain is well and thoroughly muddled.

He’ll do what he’s doing  _right now_ , working on the engine of car in plain sight of the garage window in one of those black tank tops he favors so much, his jump suit pooled around his waist. The car is one of Leo’s special projects and doesn’t need to be up front, but it’s been a slow morning and he _obviously_  can’t torture her properly if he’s working in the junkyard out back.

She has spent more time staring at him as he bends over the engine, fiddling with parts, or leans against the propped hood, wiping his forehead off with the back of his hand, then she cares to admit. Before she tore herself away to do some work on the computer, she’d been particularly focused about the smudge of grease on the back of his neck that dips just below the collar of his shirt, wondering if she can —

“Enjoyin’ the free show, Sunshine?”

Calypso starts at the sound of his voice so close to her, and whirls around in her chair. She hadn’t heard him come into the office, though with how high her head had been up in the clouds, that’s not surprising. He’s only a few feet from her now, leaning against the filing cabinets as he wipes his grease stained fingers off with a cloth, a small smirk on his lips. His shoulders might be her favorite part of him, but Leo’s chest has a lot to offer her too. Calypso can’t help but drag her eyes from the tips of his boots, up to the sliver of skin exposed by his hips where his T-shirt is riding up, along the muscles of his bare arms and, finally, to the mussed curls of his dark hair — and she’s too keyed up to even pretend to be subtle about it.

“I know I’m a good lookin’ guy,  _but_ …” Leo continues, tossing the rag into the trash and moving toward her. “You’re not going to get  _any_ work done if you keep sexually objectifying me, you know that, right?”

“Leo, I… You… ” she begins, struggling to find her voice. His widening smirk gets it going again. “Oh, _you_. You are  _the worst_ , Leo Valdez. I knew you were doing that on purpose!”

Leo laughs. “Only a little bit. Okay, _a lot_. Your hot ‘n bothered look is ridiculous.”

She huffs with embarrassment, turning her chair back toward her computer. Leo grabs on to the top corner, halting her movement, and spins her back around to face him. He leans over her, his hands settling on the armrests over hers, bracketing hers in. Calypso swallows as his calloused thumbs rub circles against the inner skin of her forearms, her blood suddenly thick in her veins, and she stares up into his darkened eyes.

“I suppose I should take care of that for you. You being all hot and bothered, that is,” he says, clarifying when her brows crease in confusion. His eyes track downward, lingering at the swell of her breasts and the hem of her dress, and she can’t help but rub her thighs together. “If that’s what you want.”

Like he even needs to ask. She spreads her legs invitingly, her dress riding up her thighs. Leo  _licks his lips_ , sending a agonizing pulse of desire through her, and grins dirtily as he gets to his knees in front of her, pushing her dress up

“Well, it is all your fault,” Calypso says, hips arching off the chair as he eagerly pulls her panties down her legs. “So I suppose it’s only fair if you do the fixing.”

Her voice hitches when he hooks both of her legs over his damn shoulders, their breadth keeping her spread wide. It’s by far her favorite place for them to be, and she makes sure that where’s they stay until his mouth makes her toes curl against his back long, delicious moments later.


End file.
